Duke of Darkness (30 page)

Other guests played shuffleboard, the cues and pucks clacking against each other on the long wooden surface of the board. A gentleman cheered as his teammate scored at the other end of the court, a good forty feet away. The party seemed a rousing success. No one in attendance could scorn Devlin after the fine enjoyment of the afternoon, stormy clouds or not. Thunder sounded in the distance as if to echo the sentiment or assert itself, she did not know.

She shivered with private joy at the announcement Devlin would make at the dinner party later this evening. She pictured him in his formal wear, tailored to perfection, when he raised his champagne glass and asked for salutations as they made known their intentions. A thrilling shiver at the secret bound tightly in her heart added to the excitement of the day. How enthralling to know the news would become public knowledge. It was so much more than just their betrothal. It was a step towards Devlin’s future. He’d withdrawn from the society that shunned him for so long, it seemed right he reenter with a joyous proclamation and a celebrant heart.

She savoured the thrill and anticipation. Where was her intended anyway? Devlin kept Phineas company, she guessed. She turned to make way when Lord Hasselby approached, his demeanour solemn.

“Lady Alexandra, may I be one of the first to offer congratulations.”

The older man clasped her hand and bowed to place a polite kiss on her glove. He smiled, a tentative expression at best.

“Lord Hasselby, and thank you for coming. This may only be a small foray into society, but His Grace and I are very pleased at the turn-out.” She bit her tongue before sharing her enthusiasm for the bright future and how she held confidence the ton would change their dour outlook over time. Some things were better left unsaid.

“Yes, I mean to talk to Wharncliffe concerning the very subject. Of course today would not be the time, but perhaps in the near future.”

Hasselby didn’t say more. Alexandra watched him fade into the crowd, a puzzled expression twisting her former smile. Twice now Hasselby had implied he needed to speak to Devlin. What news could he mean to impart? She deliberated the conundrum as she was swept up from behind. Devlin captured her in his arms, his lips pressed to her ear to whisper.

“What did he want?”

She did not miss the guarded tone of his question, as if he sought to know the answer, but dreaded hearing the result. She twisted within his embrace and took a little step backwards. Her eyes darted to every guest in the general area. “This is not proper.” She tried unsuccessfully to extricate herself from the circle of his embrace and watched his grin turn devilish.

“Why not? You are to be my wife.”

Even though she knew it to be true, hearing him say the words never failed to make her heart tremble. She smiled and answered his whisper. “I know.”

He freed her with a chuckle, but he did not drop his eyes and when her silence continued, one dark brow arched in expectation of her answer.

“Lord Hasselby wishes to speak to you. He offered his congratulations and implied that he would pay you a call soon. That is all. He didn’t say more.” She lifted her shoulder in a show of confusion.

He didn’t remark on the news and his face gave nothing away. Then he smiled.

“Let’s enjoy our party. We are the guests of honour. I will concern myself with Hasselby some other day. Today, I have eyes only for you.”

“That may be true, but as hostess of this party it is my duty to circulate. You would have me secreted up in our bedchamber, were I to allow you.” Her adoring tone confessed she’d willingly acquiesce.

“You’ve discovered my ploy.” He winked, a chuckle dancing in the depths of his obsidian gaze.

“You best find your way to the wishing-well pond. We’ll never hear the end of Phin’s tale if you’re not there to verify he’s caught a minnow.”

He smiled. A rare wonderful smile. “Correct once again, my lovely duchess.” He reached for her, but she evaded his grasp, the motion sending her backwards into a servant’s tray of champagne. Her skirt was drenched in the sweet liquor faster than she could avoid the mishap.

“I’ll need to change.” Her laughter eviscerated any dismay.

“Love, I’m sorry.” His smile dropped away, replaced by regret and concern.

“Don’t give it another thought.” She offered him a grin, then stepped around the servant clearing the last of the fallen glassware and hurried towards the house.

Devlin had almost reached the pond when better sense prevailed and he decided to return to the manor. Remorse flogged his conscience, no matter Lexi offered him immediate forgiveness. Besides, if she were changing her gown, they’d be guaranteed a private moment. Or more. A kiss, long overdue. It was one of the things he despised most about parties and social events. It prevented a man from fondling his soon-to-be wife whenever the fancy struck him. Lost in romantic thought, he didn’t immediately notice the small commotion on the front lawn. As he made his way towards the guests, their stare fixated on the roof of the estate. His brisk strides broke into a run as the first shout breached the air.

“Fire!”

Riotous action consumed him on all sides. He’d accomplished the lawn and neared the front door as Julia veered through his peripheral vision.

“Where’s Lexi?” He grasped her shoulders and gave a small shake. She appeared frantic, her eyes wide and lips pressed tight.

“The house is on fire.”

“Where’s Lexi, Julia?” His voice, a tight demand, grabbed her attention as commotion consumed the lawn. He waited, frantic for her reply.

Women screamed and men barked orders around him. A few guests attempted to assemble a water brigade from the pond, but the distance was too far to cover reasonably. He didn’t care about the house. He needed to know that Lexi was safe. He glanced towards the manor. Flames whipped from her upstairs bedchamber window, the rose trellis aflame in a pattern of fire and lace. There’d be nowhere for her to go. The trellis was unreliable and now, would serve to spread fire down the side of the estate.

His eyes darted to Julia, still held captive in his grasp. He loosened his hold on her shoulders. “Is Alexandra in the house? Did you see her?” If he couldn’t elicit an answer soon, he would go inside to search. He wasn’t about to lose Lexi now when he’d finally found her to love.

“She went in to change her clothes. She was chasing after Henry.”

Julia spoke on a broken sob and Devlin pushed her aside, his strides a frantic run towards the back of the estate. He burst around the corner to see Cook holding the little dog and Lexi nowhere in sight. His eyes scanned the field in a desperate plea. Lightning flashed through the sky and Henry barked in response.

Devlin charged through the back door as Cook shouted after him to stop. The lower floors were still without fire, although smoke filled every corridor. A violent cough ripped through his chest as he choked back the acrid smell of burned carpet. He took the hallway stairs two at a time, his eyes wide at the ferocity of flames devouring the third landing. Without hesitation, he vaulted over the banister and landed against the far side wall. Using furniture as stepping stones, he reached Lexi’s bedchamber. The doors hung open and fire licked up the four walls, consuming the wall coverings and filled the air with black smoke. His eyes stung. He squinted against the glare of the flames and biting sting of heavy air. Holding his breath, he moved past, desperate to reach his chambers in hope he’d find her there. His body, tense with the effort to avoid the flames, manoeuvred the hallway. Then, just as he passed the parlour, a flash of brightness, the lightning illuminated the sitting room for a flicker, a fleeting second.

There she lay.

Slumped inside the parlour window, the same sill where she’d once sat to tease him, Lexi lie on her back, her gown torn and blackened, her hair a whisper’s breadth from the dancing flames that drenched the carpet. Fear shot down his spine. With a sharp shake, he burst through the doorway and crouched beside her. Heedless of the flames, the interminable heat, he lifted her with ease and slid the window open, bringing them out onto the roof as the rain began in earnest.

Devlin scanned the eaves, indecision as to the safest route tangled with his frantic desire to see them to safety. Behind him, Lexi’s room would soon collapse, his bedchamber next. He’d need to climb up and over the roof to the back of the manor. Decision made, he ran, his body sheltering Lexi’s limp form and cradled against his chest as the rain soaked his clothing and pelted his skin. Water dripped from his hair and down his forehead, blurring his vision as he carried her over the rooftop, his feet sure on the slippery eaves as if he’d done it a hundred times before. He crested the peak as another lightning strike rent the sky. Below, he heard gasps and exclamations from the consuming pandemonium. The absurd thought that everyone would believe him truly mad raced through his mind with the same swift speed as the lightning.

He didn’t dare look at her, fearful that what he’d see would break his heart for ever. He stood on the back eaves, with no way to bring them to safety, until a fierce shot of lightning destroyed the sky and his gaze fell to Lexi, lifeless in his arms. Her hair hung limp, dirtied by smoke and ash, wet and dripping in the steady downfall, while her beautiful face remained clean, as if every raindrop kissed it, washed it and prepared her for sleep. His heart twisted in his chest and his arms shook with the intensity of his emotion. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t save her. Swallowing past the emotion building in his throat, he whispered
I love you
against her cheek as if the words would cause her to awaken. Her shallow breath brushed his lips. He would not allow her to die.

Rain slanted in sheets against the rooftop. His body ached, his vision blurred from the soot and cinders, and as he glanced one more time at the woman in his arms, a tear slid free, dropping to the hollow of her neck, settling beside her diamond pendant.

How long he remained transfixed he did not know. King’s frantic barking, deep bellowing howls, roused him and Devlin rushed to the edge of the roof, focusing on the scene below.

Phineas, atop Orion, who reared and snorted with the effort of his struggle, dragged the shuffleboard court through the accumulating mud. He aligned the plank with the side of the manor house. Then far below, every available man and servant hoisted the long wooden board high into the air. It gave a precarious dip at first. The men teetered under the weight before it fell against the eaves with a jolting vibration that almost rattled Devlin’s footing free. On either side, cinders puffed and sizzled to end, flamed extinguished under the drenching downfall of the storm.

He peered over Lexi, nestled in his arms, to the perched planking. A sizeable gap remained from roof to wood. The shuffleboard fell at least fifteen feet short, yet it was the only chance he had to save her. Crouching with intense concentration, he leapt off the roof, his body absorbing the shock of their landing, protecting Lexi from the harsh jolt. Then he braced his boots, angled apart on the slippery wood, and slid down the plank until he stood safely on the ground. He dropped to his knees before anyone could rush forward and interfere.

“Don’t you dare die, Lexi. I have not finished loving you yet.” His voice broke on the words.

Reeston pushed through the small crowd offering a wet cloth in one hand, smelling salts in the other. He didn’t wait for permission, but sank beside Devlin in the mud and made to help. Devlin pushed his hand away, clasped the salts and waved them below Alexandra’s nostrils. The entire crowd held its collective breath in anticipation.

When nothing happened, Devlin snatched the cloth from Reeston’s grasp and wiped Lexi’s face in a gentle caress. The thunderous beat of his heart hammered in his ears. Life couldn’t be so cruel to offer him happiness, only to steal it away so indiscriminately. Lexi was meant to be his. He was never more sure of anything. And he needed to love her, love her with every ounce of his being. Did her eyelids flutter? His pulse kicked another notch and he wiped her face once more hoping the cool cloth would revive her. And this time, her eyes slowly opened as she coughed several times before inhaling a long, thorough breath.

“Devlin?” She raised her hand, and touched his cheek, unaware of how it trembled against his skin. “You look a sight.” A tiny smile curled her mouth.

He had no idea his face was streaked black with soot. He didn’t care. Nor did he answer. He brought her to his chest in a ferocious embrace and closed his eyes in gratitude.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Devlin closed the bedroom door with a careful click and walked down the hallway of the estate’s west wing. When he’d planned the renovation, he never anticipated he’d be living within the rooms. Lexi was settled in the master suites and sleeping peacefully after their ordeal of the week past. Everything had resolved with expedience. Servants, workers and friends had joined together to rid the estate of furnishings burned or soiled. The odour of charred wood and carpeting had already faded considerably. Phin often jested about the largess of Kenley Manor, but now the size of his home proved a salvation with the ability to live in one area while those damaged by fire were restored.

Devlin shook away the image of that night. He’d worried the tremors would claim him after their horrific brush with death, but he experienced only peaceful slumber with Lexi by his side. He smiled, despite his considerations. His duchess had proved much stronger that her delicate figure and bewitching dimple would lead a stranger to believe.

His servants had risked their lives to extinguish the fire. He sighed, thankful everyone was well. And Phin. He was the hero of the day. Without his quick actions, Devlin would have been trapped on the roof with Lexi in his arms until they perished together. Again he shook away the remembrance, resolute to banish thoughts of losing her.

“Reeston? Have the hothouse flowers arrived?” He paused near the hallway mirror to straighten his waistcoat. His tailor had done him well with the dark green superfine. How interesting, a change of colour and attitude could be equally conjoined.